New Britain Herald Newspaper, August 30, 1927, Page 12

Love’s Embers Adele Garrison’; Absorbing Sequel to “Revelations of a Wife” Beginning Mary Goads Noel Veritzen by Prais- | ing a Prospective Rival 1 found it hard to hide my amuse- ment as I watched Mary Harrison’s tactics when she thought she saw in Noel Veritzen an undue alacrity to accept my suggestion that we go to The Larches and invite Eleanor | Lincoln to dinner upon the coming Saturday night. I knew that she was jealous of the young chatelaine of The Larch- es and Miss Lincoln's open attempts to win Noel's attentions. She had expressed herself so freely upon that point in both Mother Graham's presence and mine that her Victor- ian grandmother had been shocked, and had half-heartedly reproved the girl for her frankness. But Mary's course of action at Noel's quick a ceptance of my invitation would have done credit to the most indi- rect of her feminine forbears, She banished the frown from her face hefore Noel had a chance to see it and sprang up from her seat, her face apparently filled with de- light Oh! Auntie Madge!” she caroled, “how perfectly scrumptious! TI've been dying to go over to The Larches ever since that day at th station when you came home. Funny, itsn't it, she hasn't been here since. T wonder if Mr. George Logan ' Jackson ever let her have that won- derful dog. Who knows? Maybe we'll see him over there. I tho the understudy for the Prince of Wales was quite impressed with her, didn't you?” Her face was turned f me, but obliquely toward Noel. He could not possibly see the impudent wink with which she favored me as she finished her little specch, and which almost twisted my laughter muscles nto open merriment. But he received squarely the implication a New Seri she wished him to get, of her recep- | tivity to another sight of the young | man whose frank though unspoken | admiration of her loveliness had so enraged Noel at the railroad station. The young violinist had no such control of his features as had Mary. I knew that this was partly a re- sult of his temperament, and partly | because his feelingfor her was a | genuine passion, while hers was as vet a careless affectionate liking, untouched by any deeper feeling. I found myself wishing, not for the first time, that Noel would respond, if only in pretense, to the advances anor Lincoln, and give Mary |a sample of the provoking careless treatment which she was according him. Just now, however, he was frown- ing blackly, chiefly, I guessed, be- cause Mary's barbed little speech gave him no chance for any particu- lar grievance which he could votce. He knew he had felt the tiny jabs of a stiletto, but I what was meant by attack. # Mrs. Graham (he turned {to me) “there will be no chance of our meeting that awful bounder at The Larches. Miss Lincoln does not appear to be a girl who would pick up an acquaintance like that.” “Oh, Noel darling,” Mary chirp- ed, “pull the earmuffs and blinders off and realize you belong in this century, not the last one. You don't appear to know your carrots at all. In the first place I'l wager the run in my new pair of stockings that Mr. George lLogan Jackson isn’t a bounder at all. In the second place, it Miss Lincoln wouldn't man- age an acquaintance with a nifty lid like that, T would in a holy min- ute. Now go ahead, throw the guil- lotine as soon as you're ready.” Copyright, 1927, Newspaper Feature Inc. e Cubby's Great Disappointment By Thornton W. Burgess - If what you want is not for you You'll find that something else will do. Old Mother Nature ou ever very greatly dis- Did you ever set your be sure that you e it and suddenly appointed? heart on a thing, . Were going to ha have it taken away from 10w how Cubby, imp of mischief pantry of Farmer Bro house, felt when at last he reached the cookie jar and found it empty. That lttle cub just couldnt be- eve it. Such a sorrowul little face as he presented! All there was in the cookie jar were a few crumbs and the most provoking smell of cookies. Cubby licked up crumbs. They tantalize him. that little in the Somehow Cubby just couldn’t be- | lieve that that jar was empty. He would start to walk away from it | and then he would turn back. He did that half a dozen times. Then, when he finally made up his mind that there were no cookies, he be- gan to be curious about other things. He sniffed. A iety of odors tickled his nose. Some of them were interesting. If he couldn’t have cookies, perhaps he could find something else to take their place. If some of those things he smelled tasted as good as they smelled he ,could get along nicely without the cookies. So Cubby started to follow up the smells The first thing Cubby did was to | climb up the side of the flour barrel. It didn't take him to find out that the cover on that barrel was moveable. In two minutes he had that cover off. poked his head as far down in that barrel, and gave a quick hard sniff The flour went up his nose. He withdrew hastily. He sneezed and iblew and did his best to get that flour out of his nose. This was nothing good to eat, Hg would look clsewhere, There must be good things on some of those shelves. Once more he climbed up on the barrel, It was the way of reaching the first shelf. On this shelf was a dish of jelly. Cubby didn't waste He licked his was b easiest time even He smacked his | more cookies. must be ne Mot here d t pan. was fust on Mother Brown, busy u racket dowr t all she coul stand and liste ing and cl thinzs brea s never er 1 sether such had a noise he heard in her Mother Brow house r 1 downst i o ing torn in j ted. Then s pantry door (Copyright, 19 [} you? 3f | half a minute for He He poked his head as far down m that barrel as he could those | were just enough to | Your Health How to Keep It— | | | | ’ Causes of Iliness BY DR. MORRIS FISHBEIN Editor Journal of the American | Medical Association and of Hy- geia, the Health Magazine n commits suicide he of choices of means ¢ which he will propel himself into h wn. The international list of causes of death groups cases ac- | cording to suicide by poison, by asphyxia, by hanging or strargula- tion, by drowning, by fircarms, by cutting or plercing instruments, by jumping from high places. by | cruhing, and finally by miscellane- ous causes. More than one-third of cides are accomplished by means of fircarms, and guns are em- ployed atively more frequently in rural districts than in the ecity. Men are more likely to use fire- arms than are women, and the pistol is preferred to the rifle. Choice Abroad countr outside the hanging is the - The United and Spain ars the countries in the which fircarms are other methods. United States suicide by strangulation ranks by asphyvia in- either nat- form s in the W all sul- only world in frequent the ally far more common cities than in the country, the facilities are net so frequently is one of the sui- being by wo- rms of llows, employed Percing ir the same ved that with beli show this m iency than Many Women Leap ! high places rred by to their of people for poi g year to year relati vary likewise \ of cases. 1If of poison is soon secured It 1o restrict poisons, but not ropes and other person who wants to suicide usually finds a way. is possible of nives, at of utensils, commit hat was not certain | NEW BRITAIN DAILY HERALD, TUESDAY, AUGUST 30, 1927. Sally READ THIS FIRST: Sally Jerome, pretty and clever, is the mainstay of her family in the | absence of her father, who does not llive with her mother. Mrs. Je- rome enjoys poor health, so Sally does the housework mornings and | office work for Mr. Peevey after- noons. Beau, her brother, and Mil- lie, her sister give so little toward the upkeep of the home that the whole load falls on Sally. In the flat below the Jeromes | [lives Ted Sloan, who wants her to | marry him and keep on working. | But the only man who interests her |is John Nye, whose real estate of- fice is across the hall from Mr. | Peevey's. Millie is his secretary, and | Lhe is blindly infatuated with her. | Millie, however, prefers a bond | salesman named Davidson. David- son is in love with Sally, who de- | | tests him. i Beau “borrows" some money from | [ the bank where he works, and Sally | gets the money to repay it from Mr. | Peevey. Then Beau elopes with his girl, Mabel, and brings her home to live, paying no board. Millie goes to the hospital for an operation, and John Nye pays for her private room and nurse. While she is sick, Sally | and does it so well that John offers her a steady job when Mr. Peevey retires from business later. She refuses it, and goes into the w inn business with her Aunt Jerome., Later the family on to the inn. John comes to her there several weeks, and again offers her a position in his office. Again she refuses it, because she has decided to stick to Aunt Em until their busi- ness is thriving. Millie tells her that | Nye only came to sce her because | he really wanted to see it Millie was | with Davidson, and Sally believes her. Millie declares that Ny frantically jealous of Davidson. the spring Aunt Em hires a jazz | band, and Sally does an exhibition “shimmy” dance every night, with the result that their business fn- | creases. One night Davidson tries | to make love to Sally, and Millie accuses Sally of trying to “vamp” Davidson away from her. Mrs. Je- rome leaves town hurriedly when word comes that Mr. Jerome is ill NOW GO ON WITH THE STORY CHAPTER XLIX On Saturday Millie broke stubborn and sulky silence. She got home from town at 1 o'clock and came straight through the house to the sunshiny kitchen where Sally was baking cherry pies “Yum, yum! What a good smell! It makes my mouth water,” she | drawled, as cheerfully and casually as if she never had left off speaking to her for three or four days. Her eves were watchful above her smil- ing mouth. It had taken Sally years to learn that whenever Millie was particular- | ly sweet she wanted something, and | was sweet and good-tempered b{ cause of that something. “This time I suppose she wants | the money for the hat that Mother promised her,” Sally thought, and then was ashamed of herself in- stantly, for harboring such a thought about her own sister. But Millie said nothing about a hat. | She came into the hot, bright | room, shut the door behind her, | and sat down at one end of the long cilcloth-covered table. i “Could I have some crackers or | a glass of milk or something light?" | she asked, taking out little black-enamel cigaret case and | striking a light. Then she laid an envelope down upon the table be- fore her. Sally brought her a glass of milk from the ice-box and cut her a piece of yesterday's apple pie. “Here's a special delivery letter | that came for you just now, Sally,” she said, shoving it across the oil- | cloth, “I met the boy on the porch and signed for it.” She giggled as she looked at it. |, J2t's from Mother,” she went on “Wouldn't you just know it? She's put the stamps on upside down and blotted the envelope. If there's any way of doing things all wrong, that's the way Mother always does | m atter | i her at all civilized | more | where tru- | that | 1s | women | Tt s | is suppressed | E ! “What is there about m | was taken I've promised Millie some —please give it to her. | j does her work n John Nye's office, | %y or Jisle-thread silkk stock- |ings that you promised me. T need them very badly, and some hand- | kerchic milk. | mured Sally. “That means that you | won't talk to me. ‘ S Shoulder: BEATRICE BURTON, Aufbor them, isn't it?” Without a word in reply, Sally tore open the envelope. It always hurt her to hear Millie or Mabel say unkind' things about her mother. And they always said them in such a nasty, laughing way, as if poor Mrs. Jerome, with her instinct for always doing the wrong thing, was some kind of a joke. “My dear Sally,” she had written. “I found your Papa very sick, in- aeed, and have been too busy taking care of him to steal a moment to write until now. “His landlady, Mrs. Gleason, says complained of headaches for < before the day he | sick. What ails him I | don’t know, but the doctor thinks it is some kind of nervous breakdown | and wants him to take a long rest. | He has high blood pressure, too. I he about a Wi am worn out looking after his inany | wants, and wish you were here to | help me. “Of course, T shall bring him | home as soon as possible. In the | meantime, send me a hundred dol- | lars, and be sure not to forget that | money for a hat on Saturday. Ten dollars | ‘And don't fail to send me the too—marked with a ‘C’ v best love to Beau and Millie yourself. Mother.” “What does Clara Margaretta have to say?" asked Millie, looking up from her slice of pie and her going to bring soon,” mur- “She says she's Father home pretty and I will have to room together again, Millie, doesn’t it? And she says I'm to give you ten dollars for a hat today.” Millie looked hlank. She had a | trick of wiping all expression from her face when she wanted to, leav- ing it as pink and white and inno- cent as the face of a wax doll. “I don't know what she means,” she fibbed so convincingly that she fooled Sally completely, as she usu- ally did. “But I want to ask you a favor, on my account, Angel. She put her pretty head to one side, and her voice was as velvety smooth as the slow drip-drip of honey pouring from a spoon. “I want to ask Davy here tonight for supper. Only T don't want to call him up myself. T want you to do it for me. Will you?” Sally shook her dark, glossy head with energy. “Not me!” said she, ungrammatically, but to the point. “If you want him here you ask him yourself, old kid!" Millie carried her plate and her glass to the sink and rinsed them out with cold water—a thing she never had been known to do for herself before in her life. | Then she came back and put both of her arms around S 's slender its checl gingham , “Please—pretty please wit she pleaded, childishly. Do call him up, Sally, just this once, and T'll never ask you to do another thing for me as long as I live. I've tried to get him on the phone, myself, all week, but he T know he's at home sometimes when he sends | word to me that he isn't.” Sally held up a pie, and began to trim off the uncooked crust around the edges of the pan, “I should think you'd have too much pride to run after a man, Mil- lie.” she sald, here eyes on her work. “And anyway, it John Nye is jeal- ous of him, why don't you drop him, now that you have such a good chanee to do it?" Millie dropped her Sally's shoulders and to the door. the sound of water pattering on leaves, where Aunt En v was sprinkling her vegetable garden. “I don't want to drop him,” she said after ute or two. Not right no 3 T like him too much—and I can always get John hen T want him back get tired hands from walked over sereen Outside came 1 for a while. of Davy.” don't Not until I ! *HER MAN /,* HONEY LOU THE HOLLYWOOD! GIRLY ETC. Her voice was cool and hard, and Sally knew that she had thought this whole thing out and made up her mind just what to do. “You mean,” she said, “that when you get ready to settle down, you'll whistle John Nye back to you; but in the meantime you're going to have your fling with Davy David- son. That's—what you mean, isn't it Millie turned back from the door, and nodded her head so that a bright ripple ran across her shim- mering hair. “That's exactly it,” she answered. “I'm wild about Davy now—but I know I won't be very much longer. I'm never in love with a man for a long time, you know. And when I'm all over my case on him, I'll be perfectly willing to settle down for life with John Nye. He has every thing that I want {n this world—all the things that Davy Davidson couldn’t give a girl. He's all show-off—Davy is. I'll bet he hasn't a nickel laid away in the bank, and never will have.” Sally looked at her with a kind of admiring horror. . . It was hard to believe that behind those baby- blue eyes and under that halo of baby-gold hair, there was such a sharp little brain working like & piece of steel machinery. “Millie,” she said, “Weren't you ever in love with John Nye?” It seemed impossible to her that Mil- |lie could have spent so many hours with him and not fallen hopelessly in love with him. But Millie was shaking her head. “Nop sald she. “I think he's the best-looking thing I ever saw, but I can't get any kick out of being with him. He's so polite and high-brow, you know. Good lord, he'd die if I took a drink or smoked a cigaret in front of him. And he thinks I'm terrible because I don't give up because I happen to know him! He's hardly spoken to me since the last time Davy came up to the office. He's jealous, of course!” She giggled joyfully. At five that night, when Sally went upstairs to dress, she was sit- Bebowed ‘Kerchief A new white georgette handker- chief with a lace bodice, has a green bow at one corner. REG.U. 8. PAT. OFF. 01927 BY NEA STRVICE, INC. I think every girl in town is ‘{ust as pretty as she can be! - ¢, Sally? 1 mean it.” 'FRAID MICE A MOUSE ran across the ‘wood- shed floor. Johnny made a noise with his feet, and the little mouse etopped and sat very still. “He looks SO afraid!™ Johnny thought. When the mouse thought every: thing was safe it started across the floor again. Then it stopped, and Johuny moved his feet. This time :lemle mouse ran o fast you could harldy see it. ... and disappear through a hole. e “My! But I'd hate to be s0 afraid of anything” said Johnny. o “I'm glad I'm NOT a mouse!™ every other man in the world, just, ting before the dreaser in her room, golng through the drawer in which she kept her neatly-darned stock- ivgs. “Lovey, I'm borrowing a pair ot your socks. I hope you don’t mind,” she sald airily. “I called Davy up myself, and he'll be out hers at 3 o'clock. Can't he and I have supper with you and Ted after you're through dancing?” It was Sally's custom to have a bite to eat with Ted Sloan along towards 10 o'clock every night when they finished dancing and turned the floor over to the guests who came to dine at The House by the Side of the Road. “Why, yes, I guess £0,” she re- plied. “I'll set a table in the little dining room for the four of us.” Millle nodded, her gaze fixed on her own colorful reflection in the glass. “Now, don’t you make eyes at Davy the way you did. the other night,” she wazned, “or I'll go to it, and take your Theodore Sloan away from you so fast it'll make your head swim, Sally Jerome. And you'll be left high and dry without a dancing partner.” She smiled cheer- fully at Sally in the glass, but there was a threat in her smile, neverthe- less. Sally wondered if she really thought she could take Ted Sloan away from her. . . . Sally was not a vain person, but she never thought of herself as being half as attractive as Millle. But of one thing she was certain, and that one thing was Ted Sloan’s lasting affec- tion for her. He had been in love with her for years—and the more indifferently had seemed to care for her. Moreover, she knew that he dis- liked Millle just as he disliked Mabel —and for the same reason. They were both “lightweights” and “cooky-brains,” as he often had remarked. “Do you honestly think you could make Ted Sloan fall for you Mil- lie?” Sally asked, with a twinkle in her eye. “Because if you do, I wish you'd try Millle nodded, and ran a slender hand through the fluff of her hair. “Tm not concelted, Sally,” she answered eoberly, “but I know I could.” Again she nodded her bright head in calm self-satisfaction. “I Mon't know why it is, but I can make any man want to she ran on. m not any prettier than other girls, as far as I can sce. And I'm not half as smart as you, for instance. But there's something about me that men fall for like & skyrocket. .- What is it, Sally? I mean it. Sally stared at her in wonder. It must be marvelous, she was think- ing to feel that way about yourself —to be sure of your beauty and your charm and your power to draw men like a magnet. “And yet,” she sald to herself later, as she brushed out her hair befiore the glass. “And yet, Millie's all wrong. Davidson isn't in love with her—and Ted isn't and never will be.” Then another thought struck her. Perhaps Millle was wrong about T~hn Nye, too! Perhaps he wasn't in love with her any more, either! Ferhaps he wasn’t jealous of David- son, but just bored with Millie dhe had treated him the more he lately. MAIN AT EAST MAIN 'And maybe he DID come o here that day to see me, after all, she told herself. The thought sooth- . ed and comforted her. That night he came again, (TO BE CONTINUED) Menas for the Family : BY SISTER MARY Breakfast—Sliced peaches, cereal, cream, corned beef hash, crisp toast, milk, coffee. Luncheon — Potato and parsley soup, graham bread and butter sandwiches, frozen cheese salad, cocoanut wafers, lemonade. Dinper—Breaded veal cutlets, to- mato sauce, scalloped potatoes and onions, beet and lettuce salad, honeydew melon with Jlemon ice, milk, coffee. If the lemon ice is not convenient to provide, serve sections of lemon with the melon. Be sure the fruit is very cold before serving. Frozen Cheese Salad One and one-half cups cottage cheese, 1 cup whipping cream, 1 2 cup bar le duc currants, 1-2 tea- spoon salt, chilled lettuce, French dressing. Add jam and salt to cheese. Fold in cream whipped until stiff. Turn into a mold and pack in ice and #alt. Let stand four hours. Turn out of mold, cut in slices and arrange on a bed of lettuce. Pour over French dressing made a little sweet and serve at once, The dressing should not be really sweet but the sharpness of the lem- on should be tempered. Study Up On What’s What for Fall THURSDAY, FRIDAY AND SATURDAY ESTA?.ISN!D 1859 Fine Foods for Labor Are you going on a picnic Labor Day? Or are you going to stay at home? A & P foods are ready for you. The stock of picnic foods at your A & P store is complete. The shelves are filled with all kinds of fine things to eat and the prices are, of course, usually pay for such fine foods. Potatoes =™ 33 Day much lower than you Small, tender, lean shoulders—very fine Pickles MILK JELLO Hundr, THE GREAT Shoulders sugar cured smoked LB 19 Fancy butter from America’s finest creameries. Yow'll like it! Creamery Butter ENCORE The queen of salad dressings! Mayonnaise Straight or asa mizer—its flavor is supreme! Cilicquot Clut Save that school girl complexion! Palmolive Soap The food confection—use them in salads and icings! Marshmallows cavenne Al ready for quick and easy lunches. Gorton’s Crisp, tender perfect pickles! SWRET PALE DRY eor GOLDEN GINGER ALE READY-TO-FRY CODFISH CAKES swrer T MIXED A very special value jor one week only! La Touraine Coffee FAIRY SOAP WALDORF TOILET PAPER O'KEEFE’'S GINGER ALE WAX PAPER VAN CAMP'S EVAPORATED eds of thousands eat this loaf daily—yowll like it too! | Grandmother’s Bread c& PACIFI Choice, selected hams cutfromchoiceporkers, LB sugarcured—greatvalue SUNNYFIELD PRINTS 1846¢c BOTTLES CONTENTS 319 2--25° B2 27 45 e (o 50° LB 120Z [ TIN LB e 6 caas 28° 4 rous zs°’ BOTTLE lo“‘ 3 rous 25° 3 U 29° 3 rxcs 2§° b LARGE U LOAF TEA €o.